This poem is taken from Stand 236, 20(4) January - March 2023.
Molly's Igloo
After three days and rising of Easter snow,
nothing else for it but to build an igloo.
We salvaged a wheelbarrow from the shed, shovels–
a spider’s citadel spun in each handle.
Settling into the routine: load, trundle, empty, pat–
...
nothing else for it but to build an igloo.
We salvaged a wheelbarrow from the shed, shovels–
a spider’s citadel spun in each handle.
Settling into the routine: load, trundle, empty, pat–
...
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